Dinner
by snivellusisatermofendearment
Summary: Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent go on a date. In public. This can't go well. ... probably OOC because it is based off the versions of them in my head, maybe AU too, but who can tell anymore? and a bit of crack ... I was bored, okay? also, SLASH!
1. Prologue

**A/N So... this is my first fic, go easy. **

**The rating may change because I basically have no idea where I'm going with this.**

**I don't own anything. This is SLASH.**

"Good evening Mr. Wayne. Your usual table?"

"Yes, thank you Sam. That would be fine."

The broad figure of Bruce Wayne was always an impressive sight, but tonight he seemed particularly devastating. Perhaps it was the fact that he did not, for once, have a scantily attired young woman hanging off of his arm. All the same Bruce had gone all out. The expensive suit, the perfectly shined shoes, and the solid gold cufflinks all exuded an air of wanting to impress. He walked through the restaurant as if he owned the place. In fact, he probably did.

As he passed he was greeted by the occasional congressman or billionaire.

"By yourself tonight, Bruce?"

"Not exactly."

"Ah, another of your lovely lady friends?" The congressman looked hopefully toward the door as if she might walk in then.

"Not exactly."

nananananananananana

"Do you have a reservation?"

"Uh, I'm looking for Bruce Wayne..."

The waiter looked at the man scrutinizingly. The dark hair and broad physique did not seem to match the glasses and oversized clothing. The man did not look at all like the sort of man to be associated with the likes of Bruce Wayne. Indeed, he looked uncomfortable to be in this class of restaurant at all.

"And he is expecting you?"

"Well, yeah."

"Very well. Your name?"

"Clark Kent."

Sam walked away and came back a moment later looking astounded; this was not where Bruce Wayne conducted business. "Follow me."

Sam led the way through the quiet restaurant to a table near the window. Draped in velvet curtains it was basically secluded from the rest of the diners.

"Clark!" Bruce stood up a little too suddenly and shook his friend's hand with vigour.

"Nice to see you too, Bruce."


	2. Oneshot

Once hidden behind the curtain, Clark slid into the booth, tightly beside the billionaire. He leaned his head and whispered "How about a proper hello?" Before Bruce could react, seeing as his date had a slight advantage in the reflex department, Clark caught him with a searing kiss. Bruce pulled away belatedly (it was easy to get carried away when greeted in such a manner) and looked wildly about expecting someone to have seen.

"Aw, come on Bats were well hidden."

"Don't call me Bats!" Bruce hissed. "We're in public!"

"Sorry." He didn't sound remotely so. "Wait, 'we're in public' so don't kiss you or 'we're in public' so don't make passing references to your fondness for black tights? Not that the two are mutually exclusive, mind you..."

The response he received was that of a glare which, if Bruce Wayne were not, in fact The Batman, Bruce Wayne would most definitely have been sued for trademark infringement.

"So what's good here?" Clark opened his menu, unfazed by his companion's choice of expression. He was, after all, the Man of Steel and therefore impervious to all things glare related.

"The steak is phenomenal." His voice was still a deep monotone, but otherwise Bruce had slipped back into his non-super ego. They were finally out together not saving things or exploding things with sheer awesome, and they were going to have a normal date, dammit!

"Steak it is then."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Occasionally Clark's hand would drift over to Bruce's leg where it would slide ever higher until Bruce regained his sences and swatted it away. A few moments after the hand would reappear and the process would begin again.

"Must you keep doing that?"

"You don't seem to be protesting too adamantly."

Sam The Waiter came to take their order, smirked at their current proximity (Clark shifted away hastily, pushing his glasses back up his nose) and left again.

"That's why I should protest."

"Not sure it matters what we're actually doing right now." He paused to watch Bruce's lack of expression. "Rumours are gonna fly no matter what." He looked at the deadpanned face again, recognised the lack of comprehension and started again. "You bring me here and you don't think people are gonna notice? You're Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, at your 'I'm getting laid tonight restaurant', with a man. Eyebrows will raise, jaws will drop, and in the case of Sam over there, hope will spring."

"I need to go."

"Why? Because Sam wants to share the forbidden love with you? _I think I can take him_."

"No, you imbecile, it's -" He continued in an undertone. "It's the Signal."

"Oh," said Clark, turning to see the Bat Signal emblazoned in the Gotham sky.

"Sorry to cut our date short Clark."

"Have you forgotten who you're on a date with? I'll come with you."

"Oh yeah. Not used to that being an option on a date."

"What about that time -"

"You using the Signal as a booty call does not count as a date."

They stood and Clark took advantage of their position giving Bruce's ass a squeeze.

"Not. In. Public."

"Have you noticed that your voice gets all deep and gravely when you tell me off? It's like suddenly 'I'm Batman' "

"Would you shut up, _Supe_?

"Alright, alright. Lets go catch bad guys."


End file.
